


Find You Again

by Puppetqueen



Series: Good Boy [8]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bottom Park Chanyeol, Cock Rings, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22122538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetqueen/pseuds/Puppetqueen
Summary: "Don't. Don't call me baby."Sometimes, Chanyeol needs more than a drunken night and a quiet, somewhat tense breakfast to get over beingmad.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Series: Good Boy [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1007205
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	Find You Again

**Author's Note:**

> _And I remember you told me  
>  That we could work it all out, don't you worry  
> And now the tears in your eyes make it blurry  
> But if you say, "Try again", I'd be ready  
> I'm ready, yeah_  
> -Find You Again, Mark Ronson (ft. Camila Cabello)

There are times Chanyeol remembers that Kyungsoo isn’t perfect. That even if he’s Chanyeol’s Perfect Daddy, at the end of the day he’s still just a man, prone to awkward silences, petty misunderstandings, and fumbling interactions just like any other human being. Chanyeol hates the reminder all the same, because it usually comes at a time when he’s similarly inclined, whether its due to stress or anxiety, they clash in an angry outburst that mostly just leaves both of them angst-riddled and hurting. 

Times like these, Chanyeol can’t stand to be in the same room with the man he loves because he’ll say things in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean and Kyungsoo will run with it, never yelling but spewing venom at him in measured tones all the same. 

Chanyeol knows what it’s like to be brought down to his knees with one word, how to shoot up in ecstasy with another. There are phrases, short sentences that have him trembling with desire or crying in desperation. There’s a command that has him freezing in place, locking his limbs and hold his breath. There’s also a plea, whispered requests that lead Chanyeol, asking things of him he didn’t know he could do. 

So Chanyeol knows all too well the power of words, the weight they hold, and the importance they carry. Times like these, he distances himself, fucks off to Baekhyun’s house to shoot at dumb stuff on a video game and maybe drink cheap liquor to drown his sorrows while he’s at it. He knows Kyungsoo doesn’t stay home either, choosing to work long hours at the office until he’s dragged out by an exasperated Jongdae who hears from a meddling (concerned!) Baekhyun that they’re fighting. Chanyeol doesn’t know how anyone can stand Kyungsoo when he’s being all doom and gloom - Chanyeol himself is usually immune to his surly nature, able to wheedle a smile a coax the other man into a better mood with his antics. At least when they aren’t fighting. 

Perhaps Jongdae is a literal angel when he isn’t too busy being a troll. Perhaps Jongdae is simply a better person than Chanyeol. Whatever Jongdae’s magic, Kyungsoo usually gets home smelling like grilled meat and soju around the same time Baekhyun drops off a tipsy, tearful Chanyeol. Neither of them are drunk, just pliant enough with alcohol to be honest about their feelings instead of being hot headed. Usually, that's enough to clear the air between them so that they can sleep in the same bed. In the morning, Kyungsoo will call in sick to work, Chanyeol will make breakfast, and they work through the rest of their anger and frustrations over pancakes, eggs, and coffee. 

But sometimes- 

Sometimes Chanyeol just needs a minute. Or two, maybe- more. To just-.

Sometimes. 

Sometimes, Chanyeol needs more than a drunken night and a quiet, somewhat tense breakfast to get over being _mad._

He’s entitled to more than that he knows, but it’s difficult when he’s hurt too, anxiety and insecurity warring in his chest as he simultaneously wants to kneel at Kyungsoo’s feet and also punch him in the face. They’d talked it out over breakfast, said their _sorry’s,_ and spent the rest of the morning giving each other space, just like any other responsible adults in a caring, healthy relationship would.

It makes something anxious and bitter bubble in the cavity of his chest, down to the pit of his stomach, moving outwards, outwards towards his very fingertips. It makes his usual radiant smile brittle and forced, shoulders hunched till he can feel them ache with tension. By the time evening rolls around they’ve spent the whole day together without really being in each other’s presence.

Dinner is another quiet affair and Chanyeol _hates_ it. 

Eventually he goes through the motions of brushing his teeth and half heartedly slapping some moisturizer on his face. As he steps towards the bed he hesitates, eyes lingering traitorously at their drawer of toys.

“The cockring.” 

Chanyeol jumps at the words, spoken softly but loud in the quiet of the room. His heart pounds, both in surprise and at the suggestion. He’d been so conflicted he didn’t hear the footsteps at the door; Chanyeol hesitates again. 

“I don’t know. It’s been a rough day, I don’t think...” he trails off, flushing in embarrassment, all of the frustration and stress of the day flooding back into his chest. 

He’s startled by a soft kiss that stays chaste despite the fact that they’re discussing sex toys and Chanyeol kisses back because he can’t _not_ kiss Kyungsoo. Even mad, even hurt, even confused.

“Do you trust me, baby?” The words are whispered against his mouth and Chanyeol pulls back abruptly, unable look Kyungsoo in the eyes when he says,

“Don’t. Don’t call me baby.”

Chanyeol bites his lips at the tense silence, pressure in his chest at having to say the words manifesting in frustrated tears that threaten to fall from the corner of his eye. 

“Fair enough,” Kyungsoo nods towards the drawer. “Did you still want to..?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says through a shuddery breath, swiping somewhat angrily at the lone tear that had dared to make its way down his cheek.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Beethoven.”

When Kyungsoo replies with “Good boy,” Chanyeol has to suppress a shudder. The words are like magic, a balm to his soul, positive reinforcement he’s been craving all day. He hates that he needed to hear it at all, that making up with Kyungsoo isn’t as easy as saying sorry to each other and being done with it. It’s complicated and painful, and when he picks a cockring out of drawer like he’s been told, he hates the relief it feels him with. 

When he turns around Kyungsoo is sitting on the bed shirtless and wearing only a modest pair of black underwear. Everything about him is unassuming, from the underwear, to the way he sits casually, comfortably on the bed, and the cool, unreadable look in his eyes as he watches Chanyeol hover a few feet away. 

“Watch.” 

Kyungsoo’s hands are sure as they reach into his underwear, no hint of teasing in the way he pulls himself out. Surprisingly, Kyungsoo is already half hard, his cock thick in the grip of his palms and Chanyeol can feel his mouth go dry with every slow stroke. He doesn’t make a sound as he touches himself, the only indication that he’s affected is the deeper breaths he takes when he swipes away a drop of cum beading at the tip. Chanyeol knows better than to move without instruction, so he stays watching Kyungsoo watch him, heart rate picking up the longer the seconds tick by. 

“Look,” he says, holding his hand out for Chanyeol to see, his fingertips slick with cum. “This. This is what you do to me.” He strokes his cock again, eyelids fluttering as more cum leaks from the tip. “Just…you being you. Standing there, breathing. Not even doing anything I-“

He stops again, inhaling deeply as his hand tightens around the base of his cock. This time, when he looks at Chanyeol his eyes are no longer unreadable, instead filled with heat and emotion, a mirror of the turmoil Chanyeol feels swirling in his chest.

“Come here.”

Chanyeol’s body lurches into action, startled by the words even though he’d been expecting them. He’s clumsy crossing the few feet to the bed, limbs a tangled mess when he’s gestured to kneel on the floor. When his knees hit the ground it's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and Chanyeol feels lighter than he has all day. He reaches for Kyungsoo’s cock but is stopped by tight fingers around his wrists. Kyungsoo just shakes his head at Chanyeol’s look of confusion, fingers loosening until he’s cradling Chanyeol’s hand in his. Then he brings it up to his face and presses a kiss against the knuckles.

His lips are soft, plush, and so tender Chanyeol feels his eyes go damp for a different reason. More than the words, all the apologies from last night and this morning, this - Kyungsoo’s hand in his, the closeness, an act of physical atonement - feels like what they’ve needed all along. 

“Do you need help putting on that cockring?” 

Belatedly Chanyeol notices his own erection, not fully hard yet but enough to make the cockring snug at the base when he slips it on with fingers that are only slightly unsteady. 

Sometimes-

Sometimes words fail them but that’s okay. They don’t need other words, more apologies - they only ever needed each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I've been sitting on this installment for 6 months. 
> 
> I've been super busy with fics for fest after fest over the past year (and currently smack dab in the middle of two of them right now) but I wanted my first post of 2020 to be a throwback to the first fic that I wrote for the EXO fandom, and really, the fic that got me back to writing anything in the first place. 
> 
> Happy New Year to everyone, and a belated Happy Holidays! I hope that in the new year you are happy, healthy, well fed and well loved! Cheers to more EXO loving in 2020!


End file.
